A New Era
by PoisonParadiseExpress
Summary: "The shower has become your favorite place,recently.You spend hours under the pouring,hot water,because the heat and the way the droplets hit your skin causes you to cry,and it gives you the feeling of washing everything away...But deep inside,you know this is not what you really need;it's him." Set after the war.


**A NEW ERA**

You have been trying too hard to forget.

You have done all you could… to erase everything from your mind, to wash everything away. And you wish you were obliviated, because then, you could be as happy as a five year old child. You wish to free yourself from all these chains you're fastened to, but it's impossible.

Sometimes, you even wonder if what you're doing is more of a _remembering_.

You're doing this every single night, the so called _forgetting_. You lie in your bed and think about every single person who left this world during the war. You try to recall all the memories you have with each of them, and they all lead to the same thing.

A name.

Harry.

The shower has become your favorite place, recently. You spend hours under the pouring, hot water, because the heat and the way the droplets hit your skin causes you to cry, and it gives you the feeling of _washing everything away_. The bathtub doesn't do the same; it keeps your tears and sadness _around _you, and you can't get rid of them in anyway.

You are afraid.

Afraid of the person you've become. You used to be the strong, confident girl who didn't need help or protection; someone with the ability to do anything. You _were_ a tough girl, really tough.

Now, you _are_ the girl who needs protection. You've been craving for a hero to come and save you from this hell you're living in, holding you safely in his strong arms and fighting the dragon of despair that has held you within the walls of your door-less tower. It's the first time you're feeling this way, and you don't know why.

But what hurts you most, is the distance.

It's your fault, you know. You've been avoiding him since your last kiss after the battle, because it felt so good you could die… and then, you remembered the ones who _really_ died, and you wondered if you were ever _allowed_ to be happy again.

To you, your happiness felt like dishonoring them.

You didn't want to dishonor the loved ones who were killed; not when your brother was one of them. So, you avoided your only source of comfort.

And he tried to find out what's wrong; he spent hours sitting behind your door, begging you to open or just _tell_ him what's going on. He said that _you_ were the reason he made it this far. He begged you to tell him where he went wrong… and you wanted to tell him the truth, you did. You just wanted him to explode the door and carry you out, like they did in the stories. Then again, what you wanted frightened you. You didn't want him to change his mind because you were no longer the girl you used to be. You didn't know if he would still be in love when he saw the _new you_.

Maybe it was better to have a heart of stone. Then, if you lost someone too close or loved, it wouldn't hurt as much.

**~OOO~**

You disappear into the shower again. It's two o'clock in the morning, the night as sleepless as the one before. You close the door behind you and let your clothes fall onto the ground, stepping under the hot spraying water.

And you're crying again, before you even realize it yourself.

You think of Fred; the innocent, wonderful brother you lost. You think of Remus and Tonks, and the innocent little baby who has to grow up without remembering a thing about his parents. You think of the young Collin Creevey who gave you a picture of his dear Harry Potter when he found out you admire Harry… it was the only picture in which Harry truly smiled… and you've kept it in a secret box, the picture, hidden in an old drawer… you find yourself smiling within the tears, and you quickly wipe it away; you should not be happy. Not after all you've been through. Not after all _they_ suffered.

You decide to leave, turning the water off and reaching out for the curtain. It's drawn half open when you see him.

He stands there, tousle haired and all, his eyes still green and beautiful, maybe just a bit sadder (a huge bit, mind you.) and he's holding out a towel. The curtain's still covering your fragile body, and you just stare at him, wondering if he's really _real_.

"You forgot something, Ginny." He smiles a bit, handing you the towel and stepping back. The words alone do it.

You wrap the thing clumsily around yourself before storming out, throwing yourself into his arms and holding him close, sobbing into his shoulder. His arms snake around your waste in the exactly right way, pressing you even closer to his warm and comforting body. He doesn't let you go, even if you try to. Instead, he lays his head on your shoulder and whispers in your ear, in a way that makes you melt.

"Why did you go?" he asks, his hands still holding you firmly. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing… you didn't do anything wrong. It's just…" you hesitate for a moment. Do you have to tell him? Will he understand? But the way you're pressed against each other… maybe you should just say it away…

"I'm afraid, Harry. I'm- I'm not the one I used to be. They're haunting me… their memories, their voices… and I want to forget, but I can't, because the only way to get out of this is to be happy… but how can I _let_ myself feel HAPPY after all of this… things they went through?"

The power of words is truly fascinating. You spoke these small sentences, and now you're sobbing like the first day of their death. And all this crying makes you feel sick somehow, because you might have strong emotions, but no matter how much they are, you're not Moaning Myrtle after all.

You feel his arms hold you tighter, and it's an odd, wonderful feeling, clothed hands against a damp toweled waist. Maybe it should stop, you think, but it's impossible. It all feels just so right, so good, and for the first time since Merlin knows when, you feel safe.

"I'm sorry." He breathes against your neck. You shiver. "But we have to go to your room now… or you'll catch a cold." (You don't quite know what a cold is, but you trust him with your life so you let him carry you to anywhere he wants.)

He takes you to your room and leaves you there to put something on, and he says he'll come back in ten minutes. You just nod, then rush to your closet as soon as you hear him close the door. Only Harry, you wonder, can make you run across the room when it's something near three o'clock in the morning. You step outside with a shirt and a loose pajama you've pulled out of the closet without even looking at them, your eyes scanning the corridor for a sign of movement, and you feel exceptionally relieved to see him walk over to you and… and hold your hand…

He's taking you to the living room. You sit down on the sofa together; your eyes staring at him to find out what he's up to, his eyes trying to calm you down.

"You don't have to be sorry for them, Ginny." He says, and you don't know if you want to hear any further all at once. He continues anyway, though. "I know they were too young to go, but they're feeling far better now. The place they're in is wonderful; I've seen it." he waits for you to say something… you don't. "Ginny, I've felt what you feel. I've thought about it after it was over… and you know something? When we're mourning over the loss of our loved ones, deep inside, it's not them we're feeling so sad about; it's ourselves. We miss them. We want them back… it's like saying goodbye to someone for a long time… They fought bravely, you know. To me, being all sad and sorry for them, instead of cheering over every moment of Voldemort's absence, is dishonoring them… because this is what they _wanted_. Nobody forced them to fight, Ginny."

You say nothing, but the words are sinking in slowly, and you understand them at once.

For the first time in weeks, you smile. It feels incredible.

Harry's smiling too, and then he carefully leans in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss isn't fierce or passionate; it's sweet and tender… just the way an after- war- first- kiss should be.

And you can feel everything change…

This is the beginning of a new era.


End file.
